Magiks And Myths
by Eternitywaits4U
Summary: Nothing goes right for either of them. One is trapped by his predestined fate. The other by the expectations of his father. They are enemies. But figures from the past will take them to the past, to learn the values of trust and war experiance. HHr,DMGW!


_**Magiks and Myths**_

_**By EternityWaits4U **_

**_Disclaimer: _**I own not a piece of Harry Potter, nor have I claim to the charaters names and places. Those belong to her Majest J.R Rowling. However in this story you may find Graphic Sexual Situations, Graphic Violence, Profanity, and other things. If you don't like any of these things or the pairings I suggest you grab the next bus out of here.

**_Summery: _**Nothing goes right for either of them. One is trapped by his predestined fate. The other by the expectations of his father. They are enemies. But figures from other times and places will bring them together. And together, they will kick some serious ass! This is the Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter Story, NOT SLASH. Starts as RWHG, but turns to HHr and DMGW TIME TRAVEL!

_**Prologue: Grey Clouds**_

He sits in a small room. The walls are white washed but they have so much dust on them, they seem grey. The wood floor is dirty and barren. The ceiling is the same as the walls. The small window has bars on it. And only a bare, natural light is allowed in. In one corner is a small desk with a rickety old chair. It is bare. The bed is small, made for a young child of 10 or 11. He is 15. It sags uncomfortably. The bed frame is a boaring black metal. The one blanket that covers it is as bland as the walls. A neutral grey.

He hates his room.

His large school trunk stits in a corner. He had not bothered to unpack. He knows that if he does, it will be taken away. His relatives are suspisious and afraid of what is may contain. He has only barely stopped them from locking it away in the cupboard under the stairs. Luckily he has managed to hide his wand in his pocket. He knows that if an attack is dared, he will need it.

He wears baggy old jeans, rips everywhere, a white t-shirt that hangs off of his skinny frame, and a pair of trainers that are just barely staying together. Only his school clothes actually fit him. But they would not be proper amoung the muggles.

On his lap, there is a book. It has a blank cover, and is bound in black leather. In his hand, a pen is poised, although the book is not opened, as if to write. But he sighes and stands up. He lays the book on his bed and wanders over to the window. He wonders when he will be called down to do the chores, or make a meal. It shouldn't be long now.

He lets his mind wander, something that he has been trying not to do all year. He thinks about everything that has happened. And when he reaches the death of his godfather, he finds that he cannot cry. He has been holding in his feelings and tears. Until he was in a place where people wouldn't bother him. Wouldn't try to redirect his thoughts. Wouldn't pity him. So that he could morn in peace. And although the grim feelings were there, he found he could not cry.

He wonders if this makes him a bad person. If he does not cry for his loved ones. He thinks that perhaps it doesn't. Perhaps while he was holding everything in, he has learned to accept it. And then he laughes bitterly. No, he will never accept it the way things are going. And he does not wonder if he ever will.

He does not wonder what his future holds. He knows what he will do. Train himself to the brink of exaustion. Push away his friends to protect them. Become a walking, talking, zombie teenager. Become stone hearted and uncareing. And then, die trying to defeat Thomas Marvolo Riddle. Die. Alone. Unloved. Unfeeling.

And now he wonders...will they morn him? Will they miss him? Will they hold a funeral? Or by then, will they hate him for pushing them away. Will they be too caught up in their own lives and loved ones to care for him? He hopes not, but hope is not something he comes by easily anymore. And now, he wishes he were normal, like he has done for years. Even before he discovered magic. He wished to fit in with the other kids and not be Dudley's loser cousin/punching bag. He was never normal. It was like the great power above was ingnoring first his wishful thinking, his one desire, his begging and his praying.

He looks onto the horizon through the bars with emerald green eyes. No owls can be seen. Not even his own. He sent her with his friend Hermione to save her from life at the Dursleys. And he can't help but notice at that moment, how the gray clouds, and telltale boom of thunder, reflect his thoughts. He feels as grey as the clouds.

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He lies on a bed in his room. The walls are painted a deep forest green with cream trim, and they are spottlessly clean. The floor is covered in polished oak wood with plush white carpets here and there. The ceiling is painted cream like the trim on the walls, and a very masterfully painted snake coils on it. The windows are big and covered with expensive velvet hangings. Should he open them on a sunny day, blinding sunlight would fill the room. Furniture is scattered everywhere in the large room, couches, arm chairs, desks, a coffee table, and there is even book cases and fireplaces. The four poster bed is huge, with feather pillows, warm blankets and a soft, firm mattress. A bathroom is even attached off to the side.

He hates his room.

His things are scattered everywhere in a messy fasion. Clothes, books, misellanious items, a cauldron, etc. He doesn't really care about the mess, except for his mother constantly nagging him about having to see it. He just sighed and pointed out that if she stayed out of his room she wouldn't have to. Simple as that. His wand is laying somewhere on the dresser.

He is wearing an open black robe. Plain black, under which he wears fitted black slacks, and a tight black collered shirt. Dispite his loud mouthed comments about muggle borns, he really doesn't think that they are all bad. Besides, they have comfortable clothes. Even though the hard leather shoes on his feet are killing him.

His homework is scattered on the bed. He knows that he should get them done, but he really doesn't see a reason to rush. After all, he has nothing to look forward to this summer besides homework. Especially when his father breaks out of prison, and he knows he will. He wonders vaugly when the house elf will bring his dinner. He doesn't venture down to the dining room unless there is important company to be entertained. He shudders, how boring.

He lets his mind wander over the events of the past year. He wonders what his father will say when he arrives home. He thinks about all the things that have happened. His father will be proud of his son supporting Umbridge, probably start boasting to all of his friends about the great Death Eater his son will be someday. The boy frowns. He does not want to be a Death Eater. He has seen what they are treated like. He refuses to bow to anyone. Particularily that halfblood hypocrite Tom Riddle. Yes he knows that the man parading for pureblood domination is a halfblood. He is not stupid after all.

He remembers how he acts around other people. He wonders if this makes him a bad person. He thinks that he only acts like a bad person. But does acting like one make you one? He does not know.

He knows what his future will be if he continues his actions. He will become a Death Eater and likley become cold hearted and cruel. He will likely die in the service of that megalomaniac. He does not want to be any of those things. Especially dead. But he knows that if he rejects his fathers wishes and refuses to serve Riddle, his father will either disown him, or more likely, kill him. He knows his father holds no true affection for him. He never has. And he will have no chance to clean the family name from being dragged through the mud.

He wonders if anyone will morn him when his time comes. At the rate things are going, if he gets any tears at all, they will be fake.

He turns blank silver-grey eyes towards the window. He watchs as the storm moved in, thunder booming and flashes of lightning showing in the distance. He watchs as the clouds surrounded and closed in on the last patch of blue sky. He feels as trapped as that patch of blue sky, slowly being swallowed by the overwelming storm clouds. He feels as grey as the clouds.

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So? What do you think. Just a little bit of reflection and an insight on their similar thoughts. Things begin to move in the next chapter so pay close attention to all the details. This story might confuse you a bit at first but don't worry about it.

Oh, and before I forget to mention it. I propose a deal for all of you. You review, and I update. Enough said, case closed.

Well, TTFN! Ta Ta For Now!

- EternityWaits4U

_**Magiks and Myths**_

_**By QuothRayneNevermore**_

**_Disclaimer: _**I own not a piece of Harry Potter, nor have I claim to the charaters names and places. Those belong to her Majest J.R Rowling. However in this story you may find Graphic Sexual Situations, Graphic Violence, Profanity, and other things. If you don't like any of these things or the pairings I suggest you grab the next bus out of here.

**_Summery: _**Nothing goes right for either of them. One is trapped by his predestined fate. The other by the expectations of his father. They are enemies. But figures from other times and places will bring them together. These figures will give them everything they need to battle Voldermort, experiance and power. And together, they will kick some serious ass! This is the Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter Story, NOT SLASH. After OOTP. Starts as RWHG, but turns to HHr and DMGW!

_**Chapter One: Quoth The Raven **_

Unknown to both of the boys, watching and waiting for the on comming storm, someone was watching and waiting for them. He had long dark hair with a slightly red tint, and sharp onyx eyes to match. They glittered dangerously from the shadows, where he waited silently. His black cloak surrounded his body, keeping him warm from the chilly weather. Leaves brushed against the ground by his feet, as the winds grew stronger and blew them away.

If anyone could see him, they might think him a ghost. His pale face simply floating amoungst the shadows. The corner of his mouth curled upwards, in a half smirk, and baring one pearly white fang against the pale lips. The time was almost right. His lifted his head, taking one last look at the old wooden mansion, before turning sharply. The polished black leather shoes never made a sound on the stone walkway, as the man left the shadows at the edge of the property and disappeard into the night, cloak billowing behind him.

The time was almost right. Almost.

It was almost time for Hazarin and Darik to return. Only...they didn't know it just yet.

_By a route obscure and lonely,_

_Haunted by ill angels only,_

_Where an Eidolon, named Night,_

_On a black throne reigns upright,_

_I have reached these lands but newly_

_From an ultimate dim Thule,_

_From a wild weird clime that lieth, sublime,_

_Out of space, out of time._

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_Dear Harry,_

_I'm so sorry I haven't written you. But Dumbledore said that it would be to dangerous to constantly send mail to you in case it gets interrcepted. So I've had to wait until Professor Lupin went to visit._

_Harry you'll never believe it! Ron finally asked me out! I don't mean to be mean but honestly! It took him long enough. But I'm glad he finally did Harry. He's really sweet when he wants to be, and we don't argue nearly as much. I just wanted to thank you Harry. You told me to be patient, and I'm glad I listened. If it wasn't for you, I might have given up on him._

_Listen to me blabber on about how happy I am when you've been stuck in your room all summer! I'm sorry Harry, I've just been waiting so long! Look Harry, not don't skip over this! It's not your fault Harry! You weren't to know it was a trap, or that Sirius would leave the house to try and save you! _

_Harry, please listen to me, you know we all care about you right? I think Mrs. Weasley is arranging for you to be here by your Birthday. Hang on until the and don't let those awful Dursley's get you down okay? I'll see you soon._

_Love, Hermione_

Harry stared at the letter held loosely in his hand. So it finally happened. Ron had finally asked out Hermione. Harry tried to dig deep, to find even a scrap of happiness for them. But somehow, he came up empty. He sighed tiredly. It wasn't Hermione. No it was never her. It was himself. And Ron. And the distance that had begun to streach between them.

Somehow, Harry felt as if he was being left behind. Or leaving them behind. Especially when it came to Ron. After that episode of jealousy in their 4th year, Harry had never truely seen Ron the same again. His friend's single mindedness, carelessness, and general immaturity had been painfully obviouse to Harry. Sure he had his moments, like at the Ministry of Magic this past year. But really, the boy was down right infurriating sometimes.

Harry had begun to feel old. Not exactly the old man kind of old, but the kind of old you feel, when you know the end is hanging over you. The old that makes you think about things that you normally wouldn't think about. That makes you remember things you wouldn't normally have remembered. And it makes you realize things too.

Ever since Dumbledore had dumped the knowlege of the prophesy upon him, Harry began to feel both younger and older then he really was. He felt young, becasue he realized just how young he really was. He was only 15 years old, almost 16. He hadn't even graduated Hogwarts yet, hell he hadn't even though about what he wanted to do after Hogwarts, or if he wanted to get married or have children. Actually that was a lie. He wanted to marry the girl he loved. And he definately wanted to have kids.

Speaking of the girl he loved, looks like he never would have a chance with her. Harry had known it ever since 4th year, when she stuck beside him when no one else would. He had watched her grow up from a bookwormish, bushy haired little girl, to a beautiful and intelligant woman. He watched as she proved herself time and time again, fighting Voldermort with him. He though it was cute how she worried so much over her grades, and admired her intelligance and determination.

Harry supposed it was his fault. He practically pushed her towards Ron. His best friend had been eyeing her since the Yule Ball. And Harry had known even then that any girl he got with would be in danger. He though it was best that she never know how he felt about her. That way, no one got hurt except Harry. And he was used to being hurt, physically and emotionally, since he was small.

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_Draco Malfoy,_

_Your father had proven himself a disgrace to our cause, and your family in his failiure at the Ministry of Magic. With his imprisionment you have become the holder of all of the Malfoy assets and affairs._

_I have heard from your father, of your ambitions to follow in his footsteps. I believe that it is time that you prove your family's loyalty to our cause. Hopefully you will not be a disappointment like your father. _

_You will be given your initiation assignment on the 31st of July. Don't be late._

_Lord Voldermort_

Draco growled at the paper held loosely in his hand. Damnit. Damn his father to the deepest pits of hell. The Dark Lord was calling for affirmation of Draco's loyalty. In other words, he wanted Draco to become a Death Eater. Draco growled again, rather fiercely. For Draco Malfoy had not intention of following in his fathers footsteps.

It was simply to much to bargain for, to join the Dark side. And although Draco would never join the light, he thought it would be a better bet. After all, look at the previous track recourd for other Dark Lords.

Draco dispised muggles, and he held no love for muggleborns. But that didn't mean he wanted to kill them all. After all, if wizards kept inter-marrying between only the Purebloods, the magic would weaken. Besides Draco was firmly against incest. Nope, as much as he hated to admit it, muggleborns were nessisary in the grand scheme of things. And he'd be damned if he became a servant to Voldermort. He had seen his father's weakness, groveling at the foot of the Dark Lord.

Malfoy's Bow To No One. That was the family motto, and Draco was disgusted in his father for sullying their name. When Draco's Grandfather, Ezekiel Malfoy was the patriarch of the family, the Malfoys were well respected and regarded as a neutral family. Now, they were feared, and considered the darkest of family's.

Draco had spoken to his Grandfather had often as possible when he was amoung the living. Ezekiel had made Draco promise that he would redeam the family name, even if it ment joining a side. And Draco had every intent on keeping it. The only question, was how. Obviously his father would have to die. That would be the first step, and Draco was sure that one Auror or another would eventually do it. So he didn't worry about that.

No, the problem was that blasted Dark Lord. Because as much as the blond hated to admit it, he was afraid of the red eyed man. And the man in question would deman the Malfoy's loyalty. It was that, or death. Not much of a choice, Draco though darkly. He had no idea. All he knew right now, was that there was no way in hell he would be on the recieving end of the Dark Mark.

"There is no way in bloody hell he will ever burn that disgusting tattoo onto my skin." Draco muttered to himself, while pacing the confines of his room. "Good to here it. Now how are you going to avoid it." A voice said from the shadows.

Draco whipped around, reaching for his wand. To his dismay, he couldn't find it. "Looking for this?" The voice asked from a dark corner beside the fire place. Draco strained his eyes, barely making out the dark figure. "Show yourself." Draco commanded. And to his utter surprise, the figure obeyed. Draco's eyes took in every detail about his mysterious guest.

He had long dark hair with a slightly red tint, and sharp onyx eyes that glittered. He was clothed completely in black. Draco noted his pale face, and his strong stance. And the familiar wand held in his left hand. Draco narrowed his eyes. "Your not even going to offer me a place to sit? Your are quite the eccentric host Darik."

Draco pointed his nose into the air, adopting his pureblood air of superiority. "My name is not Darik. It is Draco Malfoy. I suggest you not insult your host, however eccentric he may be, and introduce yourself."

The man shrugged and smiled showing his fangs. "I am Kage." Draco took a step back and hissed at the stranger. "Vampire! Leave my house at once! You are not welcome here." Draco's eyes were fixed on the wand held in the pale mans hand.

"I would have thought that you, a Malfoy, would understand being misunderstood. After all, just because people consider me a dark creature, doesn't mean I am." Draco was curious to the meaning of the mans words, and his presence. But he knew better then to let his guard down. After all, he is a suspicious pure blood. "Alright then. Why are you here? Seems to be a better question then."

Kage smirked and Draco got the feeling that he was about to be pulled into something big. "Ah, an excellent question. I was hoping you might ask. I am here to offer you a way out of your current situation." Draco sneered. "What makes you think that I need held from a vampire?" Kage sighed, and ruffled his hair with a hand. "Call me Kage. It sounds less menicing. And as to why I think I can help you...I can make you disappear. I can make it so that Voldermort doesn't find you until you come out. And by then of course, you'll be so well trained that his Death Eaters will be childs play."

Kage senced Draco's doubt. "I'll be back. Decide." And with a flick of his wrist Kage was gone from the room. Leaving behind a very confused Draco Malfoy.

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I hoped you liked it. It's not perfect but then what in this world is. Next Chapter: Harry makes some crucial desisions and plans for revenge. Also, he dreams of a certain girl...Oh and the verse was an exert from Edgar Allen Poe's The Dream Land.

_**Magiks and Myths**_

_**By EternityWaits4U **_

**_Disclaimer: _**I own not a piece of Harry Potter, nor have I claim to the charaters names and places. Those belong to her Majest J.R Rowling. However in this story you may find Graphic Sexual Situations, Graphic Violence, Profanity, and other things. If you don't like any of these things or the pairings I suggest you grab the next bus out of here.

**_Summery: _**Nothing goes right for either of them. One is trapped by his predestined fate. The other by the expectations of his father. They are enemies. But figures from other times and places will bring them together. And together, they will kick some serious ass! This is the Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter Story, NOT SLASH. Starts as RWHG, but turns to HHr and DMGW

_**Chapter Two: Nevermore**_

Harry was sitting on the bed in his room. Now you would think that there would be nothing wrong with this, infact it seems to be a normal thing for a 15 almost 16 year old boy to be sitting on the bed in his room. However, what made the situation unique, was that sitting on the chair across from him, was a dark red haired, black eyed Vampire named Kage.

"You need to learn several things. Not only the skills and strateigies of war, but you full magical skills. You need to learn perfection with different kinds of weapons, and you need to hone your body into a weapon. You need to learn the dance of politics, and how to manipulate politicians to be where you want them. You also need to learn the mannorisms and lessons of Pureblooded children to make alliances with the Pureblood families. You need all the help you can get in this war."

Harry seemed to think hard for a moment. "I thought I could trust Dumbledore. But it seems I can't. And no one else would be willing to train me. It's tempting, very tempting. But..still, I can't just get up and leave the Dursley's. It's not safe for me anywhere else."

Kage smiled. "Ah. But why is it not safe for you anywhere but here?"

Harry looked at him like he was insane. "Well, because of Voldermort. Duh."

Kage nodded. "But if you did your training in another time and place. Then you would be well protected from him in a mannor yes?"

Harry closed his eyes and sighed. "I shouldn't trust you. But something tells me I can. I'm not exactly understanding what your getting at. But from all that you've told me, it seems to be the only choice I have that ends with my living to a ripe old age."


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